A/N: There were time and you wanna be free… but my love is growing stronger, baby, as you become a habit to me.
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Escort to Happiness.
Three.
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Mello lay in the top bunk in the bedroom, the stale smell of Matt's old dirty socks still potent in the room, and inhaled deeply, thinking this was the life.
With Matt gone, Mello wasn't confined to the bottom bunk at night. He had immediately climbed up into the top bunk when it was time for bed and stared at the ceiling a few feet away from his face. No longer did he have to worry that someday all those potato chips and pocky sticks would catch up with his roommate and then, in the middle of the night while Mello slept peacefully, the redhead would come crashing down on him, killing him instantly.
It felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. And the bedroom was so quiet now, Mello could go to sleep like that if he wanted to. None of Matt's heavy snoring or tossing around. None of his noisy farts that Mello would have to hide from. He could hear mice footsteps in the dark now and, thought distantly, he might have to set down some traps.
Mello rolled onto his side. The bedroom was small and there was a dresser on the other side of the room, next to the closet. Mello had given all of Matt's clothes to the Goodwill a week ago and there was so much room for his clothes now. Matt had been a real pack-rat and luckily, his mother took most of his old stuff off of Mello's hands. But without all of his crap, the apartment did seem more empty.
He rolled back to the other side, facing the wall.
Another great thing about Matt being gone was that Mello could sleep nude if he wanted. He would have never done that before because Mello was modest and was much to into his own needs to ever think that Matt wouldn't give a damn if he were naked or not. Mello also had a sneaking suspicion about Matt… They had only lived together for a year but for the last few months of Matt's life, he had been acting differently.
He was still a stubborn bastard, but he sometimes gave Mello these off-the-wall looks. When Mello would be standing around in the small space of the kitchen, making rice or whatever, he would look over his shoulder and see Matt, leaning back on the refrigerator and staring at him. Just… staring. The whole thing was a little more than creepy.
Mello recalled one incident, just a few weeks ago, that fueled his suspicions. Mello had been leaning out of the window, letting the afternoon rain shower wet his hair. He watched as the people below scurried to get in somewhere as the summer rains were so unpredictable. He had heard Matt scuffling around behind him a moment ago and then it stopped and he felt the redhead's presence right behind him.
He turned around, hair wet and plastered to his cheeks. Matt was standing less than a few inches away, head tilted down and those ridiculous goggles pulled up to his forehead. Mello had asked him what the hell he was staring at. Matt mumbled some half-ass excuse that he was looking out the window and skulked away somewhere.
Now Mello was looking up at the fractured ceiling, lines wavering drunkenly across it and seemed to spell out some ominous words of wisdom. He sighed, figuring this was too weird and climbed down, his bare feet on the cold wooden floor. He bent and crawled into the bottom bunk, his haven, and looked up at the stained mattress above him.
"Bastard," he muttered.
-
"Good grief, L, can't you wait one minute?" Raito mumbled to himself, throwing the shower curtain to the side. The running water was loud, making harsh pattering sounds as it hit against his shower cap, but the phone ringing in the next room was louder and Raito groaned when it continued. He shut the water off and wrapped a towel around his waist, leaving his cap in the sink on his way into his bedroom where his cell phone lay on his bed.
"H-Hello? L, I said I'd call you right back after my shower! Can't I have one moment to myself?"
"Your showers are too long," L said, monotonous as usual.
Raito sighed. "What is it, L?"
"I wanted to inform you that I found out a bit about him. I called the police station and asked for information about my recent accident and the boy who was involved. I ended up able to coerce his roommate's name from them."
"… what?"
"He is Mello Kheel, twenty-two years old."
"The police aren't supposed to give you that information!"
L sounded bored as he droned, "I'm highly aware."
"Well, what is it you plan on doing to him?"
"You make it sound like I would use this information to sneak into his house and commit atrocities, Raito."
Raito smoothed some hair out of his face and sat down on the mattress, one leg crossed over the other. "It does sort of sound like that," he grumbled. "Listen, this is getting a bit weird. What did you mean earlier? Make him happy? I don't understand."
"Of course you wouldn't, your only concern is your hair by-products."
"I mind my own business!" Raito huffed, offended.
"Never mind that. I will talk to you about what will be done tomorrow."
Raito sighed into the phone. "L, this is… I mean, let's just think for a second. That guy, Mello, he looked like he had the biggest chip on his shoulder when we saw him today. And he does, his roommate has just died, and we… well, you… sort of did it. He is not going to be happy if he finds out it was you."
"Don't worry yourself over me, I will be anonymous."
"… Uh huh. Right, well, can I finish taking my shower?"
"Of course."
"Good. See you tomorrow, L."
"See you… oh, and Raito?"
"Yes?"
"Bring your happy face."
Click.
-
The next morning began with a highly regular printer jam and Raito frowned at it. He bent and looked into the paper tray, eyeing it suspiciously. It was full of paper but maybe that was the problem - too full. He took about half the stack out and tried to print button once more and the same orange light flashed. He groaned and turned around to the long line behind him.
"Sorry, everyone," he called, waving a hand, "the printer's jammed. I'll have to put in a work order."
They all groaned at once, the sound like a pod of humpback whales.
Raito nodded in understanding as they dispersed and he returned his gaze to the printer, squinting one eye at it. This building wasn't fit for a company to run in, everything was almost always in need of repairs. He shook his head and followed everyone out of the printer room, heading down the hall for his office.
Walking past him was a stack of papers on two legs and Raito tilted his head to see the young man carrying them, his white hair in small ringlets around his cheeks. The new intern from the second floor spent most of his time making copies for regular workers, who were too busy going to buy Cheez-Its from the snack machines to make their own. Raito said, "Um, Near, are you going to the copy room?"
"I am," he said, looking up, struggling with the papers.
"Sorry, it's jammed. I'm going to put in a work order, though, so it should be up and running… sometime this month."
"… I see," Near sighed, and made a long-suffering about-face. He shuffled down the hallway and Raito watched him go, poised to help if he toppled over. He didn't, however, and Raito continued on his way.
When he reached his office, a small room just over cubicle-size, the door was ajar and he looked inside to see L, standing by the window and tapping his fingers on the sill.
"L," Raito groaned, coming in and shutting the door behind himself. "You can't hang around here all day, you know. Don't you have work to be doing?"
L turned around, blinking. "But I need your advice."
"… On what?"
"What are a good combination of condolence flowers?"
"Flowers…? Condolence…" Raito walked around the mahogany desk in the center of the room and sat at the leather chair pulled up to it. He leaned his head back in thought and saw L staring at him up-side down. "Well, carnations are usually at funerals… but, um, sunflowers are pretty cheerful, and they're in season right now." He smirked. "Are you sending flowers to Mello?"
"Yes."
Raito frowned, having been in the middle of a joke. "L, that's a terrible idea."
"Why?" L quirked his head to the side, truly interested.
"Why? What do you mean? Think about it, he gets anonymous flowers, he'll think someone's in love with him."
"You would not feel special if you received random flowers?"
"… Well, not if they're from the person who ran my roommate over. I think I'd feel a little creeped out."
"How would he know?"
Raito squinted.
L stared.
"So, sunflowers, then?"
"Ugh… do what you want, L," Raito announced, swiveling around.
"Okay," he said and leant over Raito's desk to the phone. Raito made an indignant noise about the use of his work number for such things but quieted down when someone picked up the line and the voice came through on speakerphone.
"Rosie's Posies, this is Rosie, and how may I help you today?"
"Hello, Rosie. Tell me, do you only sell posies?"
Raito guffawed in the background, earning him a confused frown.
"Of course not, sir, we've got many different kinds of flowers. Daises to morning glories and roses to sunflowers-"
"Sunflowers, please."
"Sure, how many?"
"Hmm…"
-
Rosie Fontello, who had always been a cheerful person, was in the highest of spirits as she set the phone back down onto the cradle and smiled up at her small flowers shop. Today was certainly a great day and she rushed around the counter, having to maneuver her formidable frame through the stands of flowers until she reached the door and called out to her one employee who swept up in front of the store.
"Mello! Mello, oh, come in here, we just got a huge order!"
Mello, who had been sweeping half-heartedly, looked up at her and sighed, hating it when Rosie got so excitable. He walked inside as she had disappeared from the door and he leant the broom up by the wall, watching her run about the shop and into the back room.
"What's going on?" he asked, following her and then having to jump out of the way as she came flying back into the shop.
"A customer just called and ordered twelve dozen sunflowers!" She turned around and winked at him. "I think it must've been for his girlfriend, he was very secretive about the whole thing."
"Really?" Mello asked, without much interest.
"I need you to get the order together. For some reason, he wanted only gold and silver ribbons for the bouquets. I'll deliver them since the address is only around the corner. Chop, chop!"
Mello sighed and nodded, going into the back room to get the order together. Usually his job was very laidback and that's why he had stayed for so long. He didn't even mind the matching flower-embroidered aprons he and Rosie wore throughout the day, as long as no one commented on it. What he didn't like, however, was when some random rich person ordered the entire store and he would have to package it all.
Rosie came into the back, her light blonde hair in a puff from running about so. She pulled out the gold ribbon as Mello picked the flowers from where they grew.
"This would be so much easier if your friend was working here," she mused, turning around. "When did you say he was going to turn in that application? What's his name, Marty?"
"It's Matt," Mello ground out. "And he's not coming to work here."
"Oh? Well, why not? Flowers smell great!"
"He got run over by a car, Rosie." I know I told her this five times already…
Rosie blinked sorrowfully. "Oh, that's too bad. We should send some flowers to the hospital! When will he get better, do you think?"
"He's dead."
"… Oh, dear. One doesn't get better from that, I'm afraid."
"Yeah," Mello said loudly.
She spread the ribbon on the large wooden table and got out some plastic wrapping. "How're you holding up, Mello? That must've been hard on you."
"I'm fine," he grumbled.
"I'm sure you are! Such a strong boy. Well, I'm going to have to hire someone soon. I don't know how long we can handle all this by ourselves."
Mello nodded.
-
Mello didn't get off of work until eight o' clock that night, having to close up the shop with Rosie. Once the lights were off, Rosie locked the door behind them and she waved at her only employee, shouting, "See you tomorrow!" and Mello dutifully waved back, calling some sort of farewell.
One thing he liked about working for Rosie was that the flower shop was only two blocks away from his apartment building. He didn't exactly live in the best neighborhood - the east side of the city was famed for muggings and sometimes even break-ins but Mello didn't have very much money. He always thought if someone decided to steal from him, they must be in pretty big need.
He made his way down the street and soon enough found his way home, crossing the streets as they were meant to be crossed, all eyes open. The journey up the stairs was solemn with the background music of yelling from the other apartments, some thuds. Mello opened his door, not remembering locking it as he left that morning and faintly feared being robbed but opened the door, flicking the light switch on, and gasped mutely upon seeing the waves of silver and waves of gold, lighting up the dreary old place.
"What the fuck?" he cried, walking into the living room and staring at the bouquets of sunflowers laying on every possible surface. Mello walked through them, completely stunned at first and then a light bulb inside his head shone brightly. He growled and turned for the kitchenette.
The phone was sitting on its cradle on the counter and he grabbed it, practically punching the numbers to Rosie's cell phone.
"… Rosie? It's Mello. Listen-"
"Oh, Mello! Good evening. It's rare that you call me-"
"Rosie, that sunflower order from this morning, what address did you deliver them to?"
"Hmm, oh, I can't remember…"
Mello groaned, biting on his knuckle before he popped. He let out a long sigh as Rosie droned on and said urgently, "Was it 52 Perry Avenue? Apartment 39?"
She gasped. "Now, how did you know that?"
"Rosie, that's my apartment! I've got all these damned sunflowers in here - the place smells like Amsterdam in spring!"
"Oh, Mello," she trilled, laughing, "that was your secret admirer, wasn't it? How special!"
Special, my ass! I'm locking my damn door tomorrow… Mello shook his head. "Rosie, do you know the person who called?"
"Oh, he gave me his credit card number. He had to pay somehow."
"What's his name?"
She giggled again, a little girl enjoying schoolyard secrets. "I couldn't tell you that, Mello! He wanted to remain anonymous!"
"Rosie-"
"I have to go now, Mello, my old man and I are sitting down to eat. If you ever do find out, you should bring your admirer over! We'd love to have you two to dinner someday."
"But-"
"See you tomorrow!"
Click.
Mello frowned at the phone. After a second, he exhaled and set the phone back down. The room seemed to be alive with the flowers and Mello stormed over to one of the bouquets on the coffee table, grabbed it by the ribbon Rosie had so lovingly wrapped around the stems and tossed it out of the open window.
-
"Goddamned sunflowers!" Mello shouted and then slammed the window shut. People below cried out of surprise as flowers rained down on their heads.
On the other side of the street, L leant up against a brick building, both hands shoved deep into his jean pockets. Raito leant up against the wall beside him, shaking his head in distaste.
"I would hate to live on this street. You never know what's going to come out of that window," he observed.
"I suppose sunflowers were not the right choice," L murmured.
"Yeah, sure, okay, it was the flowers."
L shrugged. "I suppose I should have found out where he worked before doing this."
"Might've been a good idea."
There was a pause and L quirked an eyebrow in Raito's direction. "You aim to provoke me, don't you?"
"Look, I'm sorry, but this whole thing is a farce. L, what you're doing is stalking a boy ten years your junior. He's obviously mentally unsound… do you hear me? This is ridiculous!"
"Raito…" L mused, scratching at the back of his head.
"Um… yes?"
"How do you make someone happy?"
"…" Raito sighed, shaking his head. "That really depends on the person. What would make me happy… would probably not make him happy."
"What will make you happy?"
"Hmm, I don't know. Coffee?"
"Okay," L said and followed Raito down the street.
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To be continued.
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A/N: If you would review me, I'd greatly appreciate it.